


All That Glitters - Outtakes

by belial



Series: The ATG Hobbitverse [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Best Friends Bilbo and Smaug, Dragon of the Shire, Humor, M/M, Meddling!Smaug, No Arkenstone, No Dragons Burning Erebor, No Gold Madness, Romance, Thorin is a Ridiculous Dwarrow, healer!bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outtakes from the fic, “All That Glitters”.  In the outtakes, you’ll get parts of the original story from the perspective of other characters than Smaug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Glitters - Outtakes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom, characters, etc. I make no profit from this. 
> 
> Warnings/Notes: There isn’t any dragon porn in this; Bilbo and he are best friends. In this story I’ve added “extras” not found in Tolkien’s Middle Earth. I feel that if Peter Jackson gets to play in the sandbox, I have the same right.

There’s a dragon lounging on the side of the Lonely Mountain.

_“Hear me, men of Dale! My companion and I do not come with any intent but to visit your medicinal fair! Please do not be alarmed at my fire, claws, and fangs, for I will be sure to keep them to myself as long as we do not come to any harm from your citizens.”_

Balin discreetly pinches himself to ensure he’s not hallucinating the massive creature as it yawns, stretches, and flops idly on the ground. He turns to Girion and Thorin only to find them as horrified and befuddled as he is. Their luncheon and meetings during the fair have taken a nasty turn. “Your majesty, I should call for the guard to arm themselves, the archers of Dale…”

“No,” Thorin says. “It has not attacked. We would be ruined in one breath from that beast and I would not risk our people that way. Is my grandfather still in the Mountain?”

“He was this morning, my prince.”

This seems to settle something in Thorin’s chest. The prince raises an eyebrow at the King of Dale. “Would you care to walk with me to meet it, my friend?”

“Thorin!” Girion hisses. “This is madness, the beast would surely burn us as we stand!”

“Would you risk the lives of all of those here on an outright attack?” Balin interrupts, understanding Thorin’s planning. If the dragon kills them, then the King would surely be able to take action. “His majesty speaks sense! Perhaps the creature can be reasoned with.”

Thorin nods, and Girion agrees to go as they make their way to the edge of the hillside. Balin watches as Thorin calls, “And why would we trust the word of a worm?”

Balin blinks when a second, smaller voice shouts, “How dare you speak to him in such a manner? Show yourself, coward, and I’ll give you reason enough to fear!”

And then Balin spots the speaker; a tiny body emerges from the dragon’s protective grasp, lunging forward as though it will stalk up the mountain alone. Balin feels his mouth drop open as the great lizard _rolls its eyes_ and snatches the tiny body back in its grasp. The dragon and the speaker confer; the same as Thorin and Girion confer in front of him. “What manner of creature travels with you, dragon?” Thorin shouts. “That would be interested in our fair?”

“I am a hobbit. One who would see your fair and learn from your healers, and share my own knowledge as well.”

“Am I really seeing this?” Girion says, as the tiny hobbit once again disentangles itself from the dragon, swatting a hand at the beast. “They’re… traveling companions? Thorin, have I succumbed to some madness to see this?”

“I see it too,” Thorin replies. The two royals stare at each other wide-eyed. “I… would think we go out and meet them.”

“Uncle! I would go with you.”

From his left side, Kili appears. “I would see the dragon up close, Uncle, please?”

Thorin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your mother…”

“Is not here, Uncle.”

Balin decides it’s time to add his own voice back to the conversation. “If we go to meet them, we should do so now. Otherwise, it could be seen as an act of aggression, as though we stalled for time.”

As a unit, they make their way forward, watching as the dragon and hobbit continue their banter. “Which of you is the speaker for your party?” the hobbit demands, once they get close enough to converse.

Thorin’s eyebrows go up. “I am,” he replies.

Balin watches as the hobbit takes a breath, looks Thorin up and down suspiciously. “You owe my friend an apology for your insult.” 

It’s only because he’s known Thorin for Thorin’s entire life that Balin witnesses the prince’s total loss for words. No man ever questions the dwarrow prince and suddenly, here’s a tiny creature (with his dragon protector, Balin’s mind helpfully supplies) demanding an apology of the prince of Erebor.

Balin doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Thorin finally manages to say, “Do I?”

“Indeed! We traveled many miles to see the beauty and majesty of Erebor, after hearing of its citizens, and I cannot say our welcome has been warm thus far!”

“And do you think the mountain is beautiful?”

The hobbit gapes. There’s no other word for it. After a moment, he says, “From what little I’ve seen, it’s splendid. But that surely doesn’t excuse…”

“You are right,” Thorin interrupts, having gathered himself from his initial surprise. “However, we are unused to the great Drakes announcing themselves as wishing to attend a medicinal fair, either. I must be cautious for my people, as they are my first priority.”

“I would understand your concern; not all dragons are as kind and brilliant and adaptive as Smaug.”

“Honestly! I’m right here, I can speak for myself,” the dragon mutters, glaring at the hobbit. The look would’ve sent a lesser creature running in fear. But the hobbit… the hobbit just grins at the sulky tone, ignores the two rulers and their entourage to turn his attention back to the dragon.

Balin knows the look of amazement on Thorin and Girion’s faces are mirrored on his own. The hobbit snorts and says, “Then speak for yourself, why don’t you?”

“You’d been doing so well thus far,” the dragon replies, and drops down to the ground, resting his head on his forearms. 

As he moves, Balin catches sight of Kili notching an arrow. Before he can say anything to the headstrong child, the dragon bares his teeth and sneers, “I wouldn’t try, if I were you.”

“Kili, hold!” Thorin orders, and they all breathe a sigh of relief when the dragon makes no move to attack. They are baffled when the dragon moves part of his wing to scoop up the hobbit and take him out of harm’s way. 

“I wish you’d stop doing that!”

At the hobbit’s protest, the dragon huffs. “When you develop dragon hide, I’ll be happy to. Meanwhile, I believe I’ll be much better off doing as I please. Now, Prince Under the Mountain, do you intend to allow us to visit your fair, or not?”

Thorin stiffens, and Balin wonders how the dragon knew who Thorin was at all. With another exasperated sound, the dragon says, “Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. Long have I known of you, dwarrow. Long have I flown above your mountain realm! Why would I wish to harm your citizens by walking to your door, when I could’ve chosen to bring the mountain down around you by surprise?”

“Smaug!” the hobbit protests. 

The dragon releases the hobbit from its fist. “I speak truth, Bilbo. They will never get it through their thick skulls otherwise.”

Balin watches the hobbit closely. He looks at Thorin and offers him a polite bow. “Bilbo Baggins and Smaug, at your service.”

Thorin returns the bow, offering this Bilbo Baggins a shy half smile. 

…wait. A shy half-smile? By Mahal! Balin opens his mouth but Thorin beats him to the punch. “Thorin, son of Thrain, at yours. These are my companions Balin son of Fundin and Girion son of Giran. Welcome to Dale, Master Baggins. And… Smaug.”

Girion glares at Thorin like Thorin’s lost his mind. And maybe he has; Balin’s mostly certain he’s giving Thorin the same look. However, with Master Baggins gives Thorin the same ridiculously shy smile, Balin knows they’re well and truly lost.

The dragon has no such compulsions to be polite while dwarrow and hobbit give each other longing looks. “Finally,” the dragon – Smaug – says. “May we see your city, now? And is that roast pork I smell?”

“You’re a pig, not a dragon,” Master Baggins snorts, shaking his head. “Honestly!”

“What? I’m hungry,” the dragon retorts. “Days on end I’ve listened to your complaints. ‘No, Smaug, don’t eat that cow.’ ‘No, Smaug, don’t eat those people.’ As though I’d suddenly swoop down and eat anything that moved.”

“Your stomach’s done nothing but grumble since we left home!”

“That wasn’t my stomach, that was your mouth! Grumbling about everything from the weather, the travel, your mother, and ‘oh no, we’re going to die!’. Honestly! One would think you were a hundred and fifty and not a hobbit in his youth.”

“At least one of us acts his age!”

The dragon _sticks its tongue out at the hobbit_ and makes the rudest noise Balin’s ever heard. Balin boggles; it’s almost like watching two children bicker. He notices the rest of the dwarrows and men gawk at the exchange, no better prepared to watch a creature as big as the mountain exchange banter with a teeny, tiny, smaller-than-a-dwarrow hobbit. The silence grows awkward until Thorin falls apart laughing. “You sound like my younger brother and I,” the prince says, drawing the hobbit and dragon from their standoff. “Please, it would be our pleasure to see to your comfort and aide you in finding a meal and shelter.”

“Well at least you're well-mannered, for a prince,” Smaug sniffs, and shoves at Master Baggins with a giant claw. “Much nicer than the last welcome we received.”

Balin wonders when he fell down a mineshaft and where the fabled rabbit went.


End file.
